


Welcomed Interruptions

by etmuse



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-22 11:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etmuse/pseuds/etmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being interrupted isn't always a bad thing...</p><p>If you look really hard you might find a plot. This is really just shameless smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcomed Interruptions

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2009.

Ianto moans as teeth nibble down his neck, biting _just there_ , on that spot on his clavicle that he loves.

“Off,” he mumbles, pushing the T-shirt up to reveal lovely, warm bare flesh. Throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of Tosh’s desk.

Nimble fingers unbutton his own shirt, tweaking his nipples on the way down. “Fuck,” he groans, feeling his cock harden even further.

He reaches up, retaliates. Wins a deep groan of his own. “God, Ianto.” The words are half smothered against his neck.

He gets a grip on the older man’s hair, pulls his head back up for a messy kiss. Tongues are everywhere; moans reverberate around the Hub as their hands wander.

Ianto’s fingers are shaking with need as he fumbles a little with their belts. Other fingers, trembling just as hard, join his, trying to unbutton their trousers.

Finally, _finally_ , they are free. They wriggle out of their trousers and boxers, getting rid of their socks and shoes while they’re at it.

And then it’s naked cock against naked cock, and both men cry out at the sensation.

Ianto is fumbling around on the floor beside the couch, trying to find the lube he dropped there earlier, when they are interrupted by a deep voice above them.

“I know what they say about ‘when the cat’s away’, but I didn’t think they meant this.” There is a twinge of hurt audible underneath the tease.

Ianto twists around and looks up into a face he’d never expected to see again. “Jack!”

Jack has been gone for nearly three months, and after the first few weeks, none of them had entertained any real hope of him ever returning. Especially when perusal of the CCTV footage from the Plass showed them just what Jack had left them for.

“You’re… back,” Ianto stutters.

Jack nods.

“Thanks for letting us know you were going,” Owen grumbles from underneath Ianto. He shifts slightly, and despite the unexpected presence beside them, the movement sends a spark of pleasure through both his and Ianto’s bodies. The urgency has waned, but their cocks are still hard, trapped between their bellies.

Ianto’s eyes close momentarily of their own accord; a slight cry escapes Owen’s lips.

“I’m sorry. There just wasn’t time,” Jack says, but he sounds a little distracted. “But I’m back now, and… I’m not planning on leaving… again.”

His gaze is now unabashedly travelling over Ianto and Owen’s intertwined bodies, and judging from the hitch in his breathing, he likes what he sees.

Ianto turns his head back to look down at Owen and lifts an eyebrow in a silent question. Owen takes a moment or two to parse Ianto’s meaning and then nods.

Together, they twist around to an upright position, eventually splitting to sit side by side, with identical inviting looks on their faces.

Jack’s surprise registers clearly on his face, and his eyes flicker back and forth between Ianto’s and Owen’s as he tries to ascertain if they’re serious.

Ianto and Owen share a grin before sliding to opposite ends of the sofa, patting the space between them.

Jack hovers in indecision for a moment, but then he is stripping out of his clothes as fast as is humanly possibly and throwing himself onto the sofa between his naked colleagues.

Once he is settled, the three exchange slightly awkward glances for a moment. Jack, Ianto is sure, has done things like this before, but it’s a first for him. He suspects that, despite his bluster, it’s the first time for Owen too.

He takes a deep breath and turns to fully face Jack and Owen. Before he can lose his nerve, he leans forward and crashes his lips into Jack’s. He reaches one hand up to steady himself on Jack’s smooth shoulder; the other lands on Owen’s thigh, stroking gently as it inches towards his groin.

Owen shifts closer, mouthing Jack’s shoulder and dragging light fingertips up and down Ianto’s side. Ianto shivers, his hand tightening on Jack’s shoulder.

One of Jack’s hands joins his on Owen’s upper thigh, inches away from his straining cock. Owen grunts in frustration and wriggles.

Ianto smiles into the kiss, and he knows Jack got the subtle message when his hand circles Owen’s dick just as Ianto lets his fingers drop to tease his balls. Ianto can feel Jack shudder against him when Owen bits down on his shoulder in pleasure.

Jack breaks away from the kiss, panting, and starts to twist around.

Ianto is dazed and bewildered, sucking in much needed oxygen, until Jack crawls into a kneeling position and drags him down underneath him. Jack’s cock bobs just above his mouth, and he licks his lips in anticipation.

He lifts his head just enough to lick the pre-come beginning to gather at the tip, and catches sight of Jack’s mouth as it descends on Owen’s cock. Owen and Jack groan in unison as Jack’s head drops and Ianto props himself up enough on his shoulders to take Jack into his mouth properly.

He’s almost forgotten Jack’s taste in the months he’s been gone. Just a little sharper than Owen, he thinks foggily, with an edge of something indefinably but unmistakeably _Jack_.

Thinking with any clarity becomes that bit more difficult when Owen’s hand wraps around his cock and starts pumping slowly, in time with Ianto and Jack’s suction.

For a long minute, the only sounds around them are harsh breaths and muffled moans; whimpers released around thick cocks.

Owen’s hand twists down around Ianto, and the younger man’s head drops down to the sofa as he moans out loud. They may only have been fucking for five weeks, but Owen has picked up quickly on what really works for Ianto.

He closes his eyes for a few moments, consciously pulling himself back. When he opens them again, Jack has shifted slightly above him.

He would have to crane his neck to get at his weeping cock, but the sight above him is just as tempting.

Lifting his shoulders slightly, he licks a broad line up Jack’s crack, stopping to trace a line around his entrance when he reaches it. Jack trembles, groaning decadently around Owen’s dick, and Ianto brings his hands up to grip Jack’s arse cheeks, spreading them and pulling him down to his face.

Again, Jack tastes both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Ianto dips his tongue rhythmically into Jack’s passage, squeezing his buttocks gently as he does it, because memories are flooding back and Jack, he knows, _likes_ this.

His memory isn’t misplaced, and Jack barely holds out for a few minutes before he sits up with a whimper. He twists and sits across Ianto’s legs; if he opened his eyes, he would be able to meet the gazes of both Ianto and Owen.

“Can’t take it anymore,” he groans, his voice gravelly. “Need you inside.”

Ianto and Owen share a look. “Which one of us do you mean?” Owen asks, smirking.

Jack opens his eyes and looks back and forth between them. His mouth drops open and the indecision is clear.

“If you really can’t decide, you could always have us both,” Ianto teases gently.

Jack’s eyelids flutter as the thought filters through his mind. “Oh yeah…” he murmurs. “That’s good.”

Ianto is startled. From the look on Owen’s face, Jack’s response has shocked him somewhat too.

“Ummm… I was just joking, actually,” he stammers.

Jack’s eyes fly open and he looks seriously at Ianto. “I wasn’t.” He turns to meet Owen’s gaze too.

The words had come out without him really thinking about it, but now that he does, Ianto finds that the idea is remarkably appealing.

The three of them exchange a series of glances, and that is all it takes for them to agree.

Ianto reaches down to the floor, and after fumbling for a moment, finally grasps the tube of lube stashed there earlier. He holds it up triumphantly.

Owen grins at him and pulls Jack into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss, tugging at his shoulder to bring him back to his knees.

Ianto lubes up the fingers of one hand, running the other down Jack’s spine. When he slides a slick finger across Jack’s entrance, he finds Jack already relaxed; his finger slips inside easily, breaching the ring of muscle with little resistance.

He thrusts the digit in and out of Jack’s body slowly, assuring himself that Jack is completely comfortable before adding a second finger, and then a third.

He curls the tips of his fingers slightly, searching for that one special spot. He knows when he finds it from Jack’s reaction; his back arches, and his whimper is audible even filtered, as it is, through Owen’s mouth.

He hesitates for a moment before slowly, carefully, adding a fourth finger.

He spreads his fingers slightly as they slide into Jack’s passage, stretching him as thoroughly as possible. If they’re really going to do this – and Ianto still can’t quite completely believe that they are – Jack needs to be completely loose and relaxed.

Jack pulls away from Owen’s kiss and drags a hand down his chest, breathing choppily. “Please, guys, now,” he pants. “Please.”

Ianto withdraws his fingers and looks around for a moment. “How… uh… how do we do this, then?” He’s trying to work out the logistics in his head, but his thought process is somewhat fuzzy at the moment.

Jack pushes at Owen gently but firmly, urging him off the sofa. “Down the end here,” he grunts, turning back to Ianto and tugging at his feet.

Picking up on Jack’s intention, Ianto slides right to the end of the sofa, resting his feet on the floor. He has to bite his lip to stay in control when Owen picks up the abandoned tube of lube and wraps a slick hand around Ianto’s cock.

Their hands meet on Jack’s waist as they guide the older man into a semi-kneeling position over Ianto. Jack reaches back and takes hold of Ianto’s aching dick, squeezing gently and sending a flash of almost painful pleasure up Ianto’s spine.

Between the three of them, they slowly lower Jack onto Ianto’s length, wrenching groans from them both. When he is seated fully inside, they pause for a moment to adjust, and then Jack leans forward slightly; a clear indication of his desires.

There is a flurry of movement from Owen that Ianto can’t quite make out; Jack’s toned body is in the way. He doesn’t have time to ponder it though, as moments later there is a completely unfamiliar and new – but far from unpleasant – pressure against his cock.

Owen’s slick erection slides in next to his, millimetre by millimetre. He has to stop frequently to let Jack adjust, and Ianto is grateful for the pauses; the feel of Owen’s cock pressed against his, combined with the tightness of Jack’s arse around them, threatens to push him over the edge far too quickly.

All three men are breathing heavily and sweating profusely by the time Owen bottoms out. For a long moment, none of the quite dare move.

The few brain cells that are still functioning in Ianto’s head are busy wondering if this is actually happening. If Jack is actually back. If he and Owen are _actually_ fucking Jack simultaneously on the ratty Hub sofa.

Then Owen shifts slightly, and all of his doubts and musings disappear as the last few neurons short out in exquisite pleasure. His cries are joined by those of Owen and Jack as the sensations rocket through them.

Eventually, they start to move. It takes a few minutes for them to find their rhythm, Ianto and Owen’s cocks sliding deliciously against each other as they thrust.

Jack’s eyes are closed tight, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he rides out his pleasure. Ianto doesn’t think he has ever seen him look more debauched. His own hands still rest supportively on Jack’s hips, but Owen’s have gone wandering over Jack’s chest, occasionally slipping down to thumb the moisture from the dripping tip of Jack’s cock.

Their bodies are perfectly attuned as the pace increases. Owen pants against the back of Jack’s neck, Ianto writhes against the rough material of the sofa, and Jack fists his own cock in a syncopated rhythm with the slide of flesh into his body. Groans and cries echo around the Hub as, together, they hurtle towards the edge.

Owen reaches his peak first, his fingers clenching against Jack’s chest. Ianto can feel his cock swell against his own, and Owen’s stuttered, jerky thrusts combine with a rush of warmth Ianto can actually feel to rip away the last of Ianto’s control.

His eyes drop closed and he screams something unintelligible as he pulses his release into Jack. He barely hears Jack’s cry of bliss as he too crashes over the ledge, although he faintly registers the warm splatter across his stomach.

It is many minutes later before any of them really regain any awareness, by which point they are all slumped together over the sofa. Ianto wriggles slightly as they disengage, giving Jack and Owen just enough room to collapse onto the sofa with him.

They lie in a sated stupor for some time longer; the only sounds from any of them are deep breathing.

“Jack?” Ianto eventually ventures in a low voice.

“Yeah?” Jack mumbles behind him.

“Welcome back.”


End file.
